


Crave You

by kelse



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: But it's a boy/girl thing because I don't know, F/M, Harry is Whitney, I just like they're relationship in my head and I imagine them when I write, It's like Harry/Louis but it's not, Louis is Noah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 01:54:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelse/pseuds/kelse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follows the story of Whitney and Noah; their ups, their downs and ultimately what lead to the demise of their relationship. </p>
<p>If you hash over the names/gender you can tell it's Harry/Louis but shhhh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crave You

**Author's Note:**

> I am brand new to this website and this is the first chapter and basic overview kind of, of what their relationship consists of.

Whitney is sixteen, young and bright and shining and so, so beautiful. Noah is eighteen and has to constantly remind himself not to touch, not to sink into her. And it would be so easy to; it would be the easiest thing in the world to curl into Whitney, to let his heart take root in the girl’s chest and to settle there.  
Noah is insatiable, and he wants all of the younger girl. He wants red, red lips and shining green eyes and he wants to trace her dimples and bite kisses into her snowy skin. Whitney vibrates with an energy that Noah wants to wreck, to tear at with his teeth until he is humming with it too. He thinks that it must be wrong to want someone this much, it must be wrong to want to ruin someone the way he wants to ruin Whitney.  
Whitney thinks she might like Noah’s hands best of all, calloused and big with long, slender fingers. Noah is more expressive with his hands then with speech; they dance through the air whenever he is trying to explain something, and Whitney understands more from their twisting and turning than from Noah’s stuttered words. She can only imagine the story they’d be able to trace out on his skin.  
Then there are her lips and her eyelashes and the soft, wispy curls at the base of her neck and her voice and her long, long torso and the cut of her hips and the way she smiles, somehow innocent and knowing at the same time. There is a never ending list in Noah’s mind of the things about Whitney that he wants to possess, to know intimately. 

Whitney is seventeen and Noah is nineteen but he is already broken and unfixable and he knows that if he lets himself touch, he will only take, take and take until Whitney has nothing left to give. He won’t be the thing that ruins the younger girl, which extinguishes that light. He won’t.  
Noah thinks that even if he isn’t allowed to explore Whitney’s body the way he wants to, at the very least he knows Whitney better than anyone. He knows the best ways to make her laugh like a little kid, unashamed and giddy, and can easily see the differences between her smiles. He knows all of the tell-tale signs for when Whitney is nervous, or restless, or homesick, and he also knows all the ways to distract her and comfort her and make her feel better. Noah thinks that maybe it would be strange that he knows Whitney so well, if Whitney didn’t know the same things about Noah in return.  
Whitney begins to look at Noah with something desperate in her eyes; looks at him like if Noah only asked Whitney would let him take everything and more. And because Noah knows the girl so well he knows exactly what it means, exactly how fucked he is. When Whitney wants something she is charming and persistent and determined. There is something like desire in the cadence of Whitney’s supple voice, something needy and raw, and Noah holds on more tightly to his fragile control, tries to brush off the girl’s casual touches and innuendos like they don’t mean anything to him.  
Whitney offers everything, offers unconditionally and so innocently that it tears at Noah’s heart. Whitney doesn’t know how damaged Noah is, how dangerous. She doesn’t know that if given the opportunity Noah wouldn’t hesitate to be selfish, because his façade of control only goes so far; it is shaky and breakable and really, who is Noah kidding?

Whitney is eighteen and Noah is twenty when his control finally breaks. He looks up one day and realises that there is something different in the girl that he knows so well. There are the obvious physical differences; everything about her is more defined, from her jaw to her hips. He’d seen these gradual changes, and had watched and accepted them as Whitney grew into herself.  
Her eyes are the same, still so bright and innocent and loving. It’s become familiar, the knowledge that Whitney wants him just as much as he wants Whitney, almost comforting in a way. It doesn’t change anything; the fact that his feelings are reciprocated doesn’t make them right. That isn’t what makes him pause and consider.  
The neediness that he has become used to seeing, the desperation and raw desire and want; it’s gone. No not gone, but different, settled and comfortable and steady. But what’s more, is that Noah feels that same steadiness echoed in every beat of his own heart. He wonders absently why he hasn’t noticed before.  
Noah has wanted Whitney since the moment he laid eyes on her, but never once since then has he allowed himself to imagine the possibility of having her as a reality. The day that he looks up and finds Whitney watching him with a conviction that looks so at home in those green eyes, is the day that Noah lets himself imagine. 

Whitney isn’t as innocent as she once was, and Noah thinks that maybe he isn’t as broken. They meet somewhere in the middle.


End file.
